Adrift
by toomuchconflict
Summary: After her trial, Tali decides to take one last walk around the ship of her childhood... but old metal and humming machinery only take you so far.


She had seen a world on fire, mountains of ice, a sky ablaze with an impossible sun. She had walked on ground untouched by any other, had heard her voice echo against walls of hard earth carved by ancestors barely remembered.

She had seen so many dying: for causes good, bad, and none at all.

The dim halls of the _Rayya_ still made her feel like half a child. A part of her had been expecting a new perspective – perhaps some small sense of disdain at the scraped floors and the persistent hum of air filters after the silence of the _Normandy_ and the bright lights of the _Neema._

Instead, she found herself lingering. Trying to remember the exact shape of the hallway that curved a floor underneath their feet, wondering what had changed to make the air taste so much sweeter.

"Tali."

Tali jolted back to the present, tearing her eyes away from a dark spot on the wall to realize she had been lagging behind. Shepard stood before her, with Legion watching them from a pace away.

Tali dropped her hand from where she had unknowingly raised it against the wall. She wiped her palm against her hip, shifting her weight with an embarrassment she couldn't rightly name.

"Sorry. I just..." She gestured helplessly at the dank hallway around them, finding it difficult to meet Shepard's eyes. Tali wanted to be honest, but the words did not come easy.

She shook her head. "I'm just being sentimental. It's silly."

"It's alright," Shepard said, raising his hands to still her. Tali forced herself to look up. Shepard's eyes, visible through a clear visor on his helmet, had narrowed in a smile. "We don't have to be anywhere just tonight. Take your time."

Tali glanced back, lingering on the narrow view of the garden plaza at the end of the corridor. She had begun to wring a finger between the two on her other hand, and made herself stop with an uncertain half-shrug.

"No, it's—the _Normandy_ is a Cerberus ship. I don't think overstaying our welcome is a good idea."

Shepard set a hand on her shoulder. "This may be your last chance, Tali. In a while," he hurried to correct himself, giving her shoulder a halting pat.

Her last chance to say goodbye. Tali tried not to think too closely on it most days, but the fact still loomed always on the periphery. She was unlikely to make it back home.

She had always felt ready to fight for the greater good, but goodbye was still a surprisingly hard thought to face. Tali looked to the floor, her breath leaving her in a shaky sigh. She should. She wasn't sure how she felt about it, but she knew she should. She owed these old walls at least that much.

Shepard stepped away and jerked his thumb back toward Legion. "The two of us should head back to the ship, but the _Normandy _will wait for however long you need."

Legion raised one of the plates on its head, looking back at Tali with its usual strange combination of the unflappable and the constantly confused.

"That might be best," Tali said, her tone a mix of exasperation and humor. Shepard simply nodded, a smile in his eyes again.

"Thank you," Tali rushed to say. She was back to wringing her hands. "I won't take long. I think... just an hour or so."

"Take as long as you need," Shepard said, giving her one more look and a small nod before turning away.

Legion still watched her, tilting its head as Shepard passed it. Tali gave it a narrow-eyed glare in the safe confines of her opaque helmet. She pivoted on her heel, making her way back toward the open plaza with a quick stride.

She stumbled to a stop as the room opened up around her. The place had cleared quickly; the admirals had most likely hurried back to their home ships rather than suffer any more of each other's company, and the crowd of onlookers and Conclave members had thinned to one small group huddled together in a corner of the verdant plaza.

The dark doorway on the other side of the room caught Tali's eye. She knew exactly where it led: to the cargo elevator and the secondary docking ports, where... no, that was not why she as here. That was not what she needed to leave behind today.

She needed to remember further back. She needed to remember the time when those halls had still looked strange to her, when they had still been the mysterious territory of adults, and not the path she had thoughtlessly rushed through to find her father dead.

Tali made her gaze travel over the vines reaching over the walls, over the tall plant life lining the chamber, and to the round arrangement of seats before her. She started a slow walk toward them, and finally a memory managed to make her smile. One of the first days into her adolescence; Yul and Mishya were holding a fake trial in the amphitheater. Tali had been afraid they would be caught and had been endlessly mocked for her nervousness, but the other two had been the ones to jump when Yul's father had sneaked up on them all.

Even such a memory could not hold her for long. When Tali reached the middle of the amphitheater, all she could hear was an imaginary echo of the Admiralty Board's last words. All she could see was a spot on the dais where her father would never stand again.

She backed away and sat down on the stairs. It was also a spot that she would, for better or for worse, most likely never lay eyes on again.

It made her feel alone. Adrift in an endless void, and the thin walls around her weren't home anymore. They were just keeping in the air.

She thought it would have been people. Friends left behind, promises she knew she couldn't keep... but no. Her tears had been held at bay with an ironclad combination of anger and purpose. Now a stupid old ship was making them well up again. _Keelah. _

"Ma'am," came a voice from behind her, just as low and cordial as always, and for once Tali felt grateful for the man's overblown politeness. It allowed her to suck in a deep breath, to steady herself before Kal'Reegar stepped down the stairs to stand beside her.

"Kal," she blurted out, rushing ahead to cover the slight hitch in her voice. "I thought I told you to stop calling me that. We're not on a mission anymore—please, just Tali is enough. Or do I need to make it an order?"

Tali grimaced; she had not meant to say half of what she had.

"Still working on it, ma'am," he answered without hesitation. "And as you said, we're not on Haestrom anymore."

He bent down and sat next to her on the stairs. Tali stared. She had not known Kal to hold back when asked, but that was only when _asked._ This was downright bold of him.

His movements were measured and calm—which just served to fluster Tali further when he only slightly inclined his head to return her frozen stare. She looked quickly away, scooting over to allow him more space next to her.

"I thought you had gone already," she muttered.

"No, not yet. Thought the same about you, actually," he said, making a show of looking over his shoulder. "Where did that Commander of yours get to, anyway?"

"He went back to the ship. They're..." Tali sighed, deciding on honesty once again. "They're giving me some time. I'm not going to be back in a while."

"I see," Kal said, slowly, turning to watch the dais in thought. "That's very considerate of him."

"That's how Shepard is," Tali replied with pride. "Sometimes he seems to know just what I need even before I do."

Kal hummed and turned to look at her. Belatedly realizing how airy her voice had gotten, Tali quickly tried to backtrack.

"I mean—he's a great leader. He's good to all of us, he's smart... Uh, and _you_ heard him speak, Kal." Tali waved a hand at the dais. "I never imagined the Admiralty Board could be convinced with words alone."

Tali thought she might have heard the beginnings of a chuckle from him, but Kal's following words sounded nothing but sincere.

"That was certainly something. Probably the liveliest hearing I've ever seen."

"Lively?" Tali scoffed, still shaken by the slip in her tone. "I'm glad someone found that mess entertaining."

"Not my meaning at all, ma'am," Kal said with weight. "I very much admire your new Captain for what he did for you. For what he did for the entire fleet, in fact."

"Oh. You mean taking back the _Alarei_?" Tali asked.

Kal inclined his head, giving it some thought. "Among other things."

For an instant, Tali thought—but he continued before she could ask. "Though I do question _one_ of his decisions. Didn't think it was my place to ask before, but... well, the geth."

Tali snorted, at ease now that their conversation had taken a turn she was all too familiar with.

"Don't ask, I have no idea what he was thinking either."

Kal shrugged. "Don't get me wrong, it seemed docile enough... but he was there on Haestrom. Shepard saw what it's like. Even if he didn't know about the charges against you, bringing a geth into the fleet is just begging for a rifle up your breather. With all due respect."

"Apparently it isn't that simple with the geth." Tali paused, then let out a frustrated breath. "I don't know. I don't like to think about it."

She must have sounded worse than she thought; Kal bowed his head and let the silence stretch.

"I'm sorry about your father," he said.

It was strange how such a familiar thing could feel so new. Shepard—the people on the old Normandy—they would have put a hand on her shoulder, talked to her until she could gather herself and look them in the eye again. Kal was a quarian. He gave her his silence. He gave her a space of her own where she could not have one.

He remained at her side; not touching, eyes trained on the distance. Tali looked away as well, once again scanning the walls of her childhood home. The color of the wall was not really just a plain brown; it was warm, with something safe in its worn quality.

"Thanks, Kal," she broke the silence. He turned his head slightly toward her and waited.

"I know it's all still ahead of me," Tali continued, brushing at an imaginary spot on her knee while she gathered her thoughts. "But right now I'm needed for something. I can mourn Father later."

"If there is a later," Kal said.

"I didn't mean that, I just—"

"You were thinking it," he said, the words of a tried and true soldier. "It's fine. That's just how it goes sometimes."

Tali suddenly felt a smirk tugging at her mouth. "Never knew you for such an optimist, Kal."

He let out a low chuckle. "They didn't tell you? Marine training is all about holding hands and thinking happy thoughts."

"Oh, I see," Tali began, playfully flippant. "To think I actually believed the rumors that they make you walk around the Coldships without your suits on."

Kal burst out in a raspy laugh. Tali shot up to her feet as the mental image caught up with her.

"I-I mean—" she stammered, throwing a wild look around the plaza. Kal stood, bringing an end to his low chuckles with a light clearing of his throat.

"You shouldn't believe everything you hear, ma'am."

Tali crossed her arms, doing her best to look properly vexed. "Well, you've certainly managed to thoroughly embarrass me. I hope you're happy."

"Wasn't my intention, ma'am. Won't happen again," he said in a brisk tone that was far from honest.

Tali shook her head, but let her arms drop back to her sides. Kal turned and bent down, grabbing something he had set on the stairs at his side. He held it out for Tali on an open palm.

"Here."

"What is—" Tali took the small tubular container, letting out a sharp sigh as the symbols on the side caught her eye. "I thought you were done teasing me."

"I am," Kal said, nodding at her hand. "It isn't much, but I seem to remember a certain _Neema _denizen hoarding all of the fruit flavored pastes last time."

Tali closed her hand around the tube of sweet paste and looked up at Kal. He brought his hands together around his back.

"I've taken up enough of your time for now. I'll see you again, Tali'Zorah vas Neema."

"No," Tali said quietly to Kal's retreating back, the tender smile her's alone. "I think that was all I needed."


End file.
